A/N: The FicSisters have a new blog where they talk and rec some great stories! As part of one of their features, they've done me the honor of allowing me to rec Spin & Sway. :)
The blog is called The International House of Fanfic, and can be found at triple w dot ficsisters dot com.
**There's a chapter and pic teaser for an upcoming S&S chapter if you want to check it out!**
And I forgot to mention Love Potions Brewer last chapter, for the help she's been giving me with what kind of tools Constructionward would carry around with him. Thanks, Hon. 3
Betad by Michelle Renker Rhodes.
Most characters belong to S. Meyer.
Chapter 7 - Mel's Ride
BPOV
It's a closed audition: by invitation only. I arrive at the riverfront warehouse on the Lower East Side at eight in the morning, though I won't go on until noon. Eli comes with me as my rep because he's the one who got me this audition. We use one of the old warehouse rooms to practice. Right before my turn, he takes me aside and assures me I'm ready, that I've got this; that it's my turn to shine.
Holding my portfolio full of shots and the few, small parts I've managed to snag, I hand it off to the judging panel and proceed to dance my ass off for them; perfecting every jump, every spin, every turn. I think I see awe and amazement in their hidden expressions as I walk off the stage.
"You did great!" Eli says backstage while I pant and try to regulate my racing heart. My head spins with excitement and mega doses of adrenaline - so much adrenaline I barely know what to do with myself. My body quivers with it.
"You got it, Baby. I know it! You got it!"
"Thanks, Eli." I'm breathing hard, shaking out my arms and legs out turning around in a semi-circle while my entire frame shivers like I'm buzzed on something.
Eli grabs me and turns me to face him. "Hey, look at you. You're so…agitated. I haven't seen you like this in a while." He licks his lips. "Come on, Baby; let's go work it off the way we used to. I saw Carmen and Felix around earlier…"
All the adrenaline, the excitement and the frenzy completely disappear.
"Carmen and Felix are here? You didn't tell me they'd be here."
"Did you really think Felix wouldn't get Carmen an invite to this? Just because you don't want him representing you anymore doesn't mean that she doesn't." He strokes a finger down my face. "Come on, let's go find them. It'll be just like old times."
I smack his hand off of my face and back away from him. "No, Eli. No. That's not gonna happen again. Never."
He watches me carefully. "You used to love it. Don't pretend you didn't."
"That's not what I am anymore. That's not what I need."
"What do you need, Nenita?" He snorts at my ensuing silence. "Do you even know?"
I shut my eyes tight, pissed off because no, I don't know, and I wish I did, so I could just shut him the fuck up already, erase that sneer off his face.
"No, I don't know, but I know what I don't need: you, or that life."
"You don't need me, huh?" he chuckles. "Let me tell you something, Bellita: in this city, girls like you - beautiful, talented, but without a fucking clue - are a dime a dozen. So here's some advice for you: if you ever plan to make it as a dancer, you're going to need to wake up, and soon."
And with that, he turns and walks off, leaving me standing there.
OOOOOOOOOO
After that, I keep to myself for the next few hours, hoping not to bump into Carmen or Felix, my old agent, or even Eli.
Angie is right. Being around Eli is no good for me, but how do you begin to break ties that are so deeply knotted into the most important facets of your life? Ties that are knotted into the only things you ever thought you wanted?
When the panel calls me back in at four in the afternoon, I go in by myself.
"I'm sorry, Miss Swan. You were very good, but we're looking for something different…someone with a bit more…
Their voices drone on and on and when they're done, I thank them for the opportunity and go home.
OOOOOOO
Mel makes a beeline my way as soon as she walks into class on Monday, bouncing excitedly on her toes.
"How did it go, Miss Bella?" she whispers anxiously. "Did you get the part?"
Aside from my staff and Angie, she's the only actual student who knew I was auditioning this weekend. I mean, she has been around for so much of my practice.
"No, Princesa," I shake my head, barely managing a weak smile.
Her little shoulders deflate, and her bouncing stops. "Oh, Miss Bella."
And then she wraps her arms around me in a tight hug.
To say I'm startled would be an understatement, so it takes me a few seconds to return the hug, but when I do…she's so young and sweet, and I feel some of her innocence seep into me through that hug, and God how I wish I could go back to those days when I still had some of my own innocence.
Because of her uncle's constant lateness, Mel and I have spent a lot of extra time together over the past couple of weeks, but that doesn't mean I should be showing favoritism. It's not professional. And more than anything, that's what I want to be.
Professional.
So despite how warm her embrace feels, I pull her away gently but firmly.
She steps back and shrugs. "There'll be more auditions, Miss Bella; you'll see! You're so great," she whispers. "Someday, you'll have your own show right on Broadway, and all the other dancers will be so jelly cuz it'll be all about you!"
I release a slight chuckle except it sounds sort of strangled because my throat is constricted, and it's all I can do not to cry right here and now.
"I want to be a Rockette," I whisper instead, admitting my life-long dream to her despite all the shit I've just reminded myself about professionalism and keeping her at arm's length.
My almost unreachable aspiration of being a Rockette is a dream of which I've never spoken to any of my students. The auditions for Rockettes are infrequent, extremely difficult, and they only take classically-trained dancers. And I'm a quarter of an inch too short.
"You will be. You'll see!" she says with all the faith and simplicity of a twelve-year old. "You'll be the best Rockette who ever danced at Radio City! If at first you don't succeed, try and try again!"
She makes me chuckle despite the misery in which I'm still wallowing; so sweet and wide-eyed despite the hard shell she usually tries to wrap around herself.
"And where did you learn that?" I ask with a smile.
The pretty grin on her face slowly fades. She shrugs, and this time I'm the one who pulls her towards me, who wraps her in a hug.
"Mel…thanks, Princesa," I say, stroking her cheek gratefully.
Afterwards, I manage to get through class feeling a bit better. The world is full of possibilities again, and it took a sweet, beautiful, yet sometimes melancholic twelve year-old to remind me that I don't need Eli or Felix. It'll be harder, but I can do this on my own.
And as the girls all trail out of the classroom, I rush out feeling more energized than I have all weekend. I've got back to back classes today, and now it's time for Zumba! Once that's over, I'm thinking I'll see if Angie and Mel want to try Chinese tonight. I feel my appetite returning, and between Chinese food, chocolate and the company of my girls, I may just be able to shake the last leg of this-
"Bella!" Angie calls me over from where she's standing by the door to our Zumba class.
I quickly walk over to her. "Que pasa?"
"How you feeling, Bellita?" She strokes my arm. "Are you feeling better?"
I give her a shrug and a smile. "Yeah, I am actually."
She searches my eyes and nods before jerking her head towards something behind me. I follow her gaze.
There's a woman a few feet away. She's wearing a frustrated expression on her heavily made up face as she takes in the throng of girls and boys rushing about her. She's dressed in a tight, cropped, black tank top and tight, cropped, black tights. Her hair is bleached blonde platinum. As she moves from side to side, apparently searching for someone, she teeters on ridiculously high stilettos, while she props her hands on her waist, pouting through blood-red lips. I don't recognize her as anybody I've seen here before.
"Just look at those tetas; they don't move," Angie chuckles. "How much silicone you think is in those? And those lips are collagen galore! And what horse had to die for that head of hair?" When the woman turns around again, Angie snorts. "Oh, hell no." She tilts her head sideways "You are not gonna try and tell me that nalga's real! That shit is plaaastic," she snickers. "I'll start the class; you go find out who she is. Vete! Go!" she hisses, shoving me towards the woman.
I approach warily. "Hi, may I help you?"
"I'm looking for Mel. Melody Cullen?"
"And you are?"
"I'm her uncle's girlfriend. I came to pick her up."
For two seconds, it sorta feels like all the air has gotten sucked out of the room.
"Edward's girlfriend?" I find myself asking because there's always the possibility she's talking about another uncle of Mel's.
The woman quirks a brow at me. "Yes, Edward's girlfriend."
In a million years, I wouldn't have pictured him with someone like her. Then again, I remind myself, I don't know him – at all.
I guess I stand there staring stupidly for a few seconds too long, because she huffs impatiently.
"Sorry, may I have your name, please?"
Her eyes flash. At least I think they do. It's hard to tell with all that black supposed-to-be-smoky-but-just-looks-like-shit caked around her eyes.
"It's Heidi," she snaps.
What the fuck? Did this bitch just snap at me?
We glare at each other for a second, but I'm a professional, so instead of punching her in her collagen-filled mouth, I walk over to Studio One.
Mel is sitting on the floor talking with Becca and a couple of other girls.
"Hey, Mel?"
"Yes, Miss Bella?"
"Do you know someone named Heidi?"
Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.
Mel starts shaking her head, and I feel a wave of relief begin to course through me. But then a scowl forms on her pretty face.
"Wait, my uncle's fuc…I mean friend. My uncle's friend is named Heidi."
Coño, carajo, puñeta, and every other fucking derivative of fuck I can think of.
"Well…she's here for you."
"What?" Mel cries. "Ugh!" She closes her eyes and snatches her bag off the floor, jumping up and stomping out of the room past me.
I look over, and when she spots Mel, Heidi's expression morphs from the open glare she was giving me to a huge and obviously as phony as the rest of her grin.
"Mellie!"
"He sent you?" Mel replies, crossing her arms across her chest.
"'Course he did." The woman's blood red lips stretch from end to end. Her eyes flash my way smugly.
Mel simply stands there. It's not hard to see that she can't stand this woman, and for some reason, that makes me a lot happier than it probably should. In fact, it makes me the happiest I've been in a while.
"Let's go, Mellie," the plastic bitch says.
But Mel doesn't move.
"Mel," I say, "do you want to call your uncle and confirm?"
Now the woman turns to me again, her phony smile replaced with an all-out glower.
"Confirm what? Edward told me to pick her up! Don't you understand that?"
"I understand that," I respond as calmly as possible, but I feel the way my nostrils flare, "but you need to understand that I am currently responsible for Melody, and I can't release her to you unless I have confirmation from Edward."
"What's going on?" Angie says behind me.
"I got it, Angie," I say, but I can still feel her there. "I've got it," I murmur, turning around to meet her gaze. She's glaring at Heidi. "Do me a favor and go get class started."
Angie purses her lips and turns around. "Puta plastica, I will kick that ass," I hear her mutter quietly as she walks away.
"This is total bull-" Heidi fumes, pulling out a cell phone from her fake Fendi bag - with 'P's all over it instead of 'F's.
"No," I say and turn to Mel. "You call him from your cell phone."
Mel stares at me, and then her mouth lifts up at the corners, blue, blue eyes sparkling as if she knows exactly what I'm doing, that I'm fucking with this Heidi woman, and she completely approves of the game I'm playing. But I'm not fucking with her. As Melody's teacher, I am in charge of her right now, and I really do need to confirm that this is kosher.
Don't I?
Mel smirks as she searches for her Uncle's contact info, and then puts her phone to her ear.
"Did you actually send her to pick me up?" she asks in lieu of a greeting. "Ugh, you have got to be kidding me," she mutters, staring down at the floor. "Fine. Fine. I said fine!"
"Let me speak with him," I ask, holding out my hand for the cell. My heart beats triple time when Mel hands it to me.
"Edward?"
"Yeah?" His voice is low and rushed, like he's in the middle of something. I hear murmured voices in the background.
"It's Miss Bella, um…Bella," I restate, looking at Heidi, who's still glaring at me. "Is it okay for Mel to go home with this woman, Heidi?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it's fine," he says quickly and quietly. I feel kind of stupid for doing this because he's obviously distracted right now, but it was the responsible thing to do, and now he's given me his answer.
"Okay. I was just double-checking. Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you."
"It's okay. You're not bothering me. And thanks for calling." He still sounds rushed, but maybe not so distracted anymore. For two seconds, I hesitate with the phone to my ear, feeling as if there's something else I should be saying; maybe something he wants to say. But when the silence stretches out, I return the phone to Mel.
She takes it and throws it in her bag. "I can't believe this! He's such a-"
"Hey," I cut her off and then tug her by the wrist a couple of feet away from the Plastic Bitch - ignoring that one's attitude with the obvious teeth-sucking and glaring and impatience.
"Look, it's obvious you're not crazy about this woman, but should I be worried about her hurting you, cuz that's a totally different story."
Mel shakes her head begrudgingly.
"Then cut your uncle some slack, okay? And show him some respect. He's just doing his best to get you picked up on time so that you can get home and get your stuff done early."
She stares at me and suddenly looks thoroughly abashed, dropping her eyes to her feet.
"Sorry, Miss Bella."
"Don't apologize to me. I'm not the one you were just rude and disrespectful to on the phone."
She just nods, still staring at the floor.
"Alright then," I say more softly. "I'll see you on Wednesday, Mel."
"Okay, Bye Miss Bella," Mel responds a lot more sedately.
I watch her walk away. Miss Plastic glares at me before click-clacking after Mel in her hooker heels.
OOOOOOOOOO
So for the next couple of weeks, Heidi, or as Angie now refers to her, 'La puta plastica', comes to pick up Mel. I kinda start regretting having asked Edward to have Mel picked up on time. All I meant was that the kid needs a schedule. Besides, it was sorta cool to hang out with her. Kinda like the little sister I never had. Or something.
It's not because I can't stand the sight of Edward's friend or girlfriend or whatever the hell she is. No, that's not it at all.
Anyway, it is good for Mel to get home early. She needs a real routine.
One Friday, I'm in the middle of Mel's Hip Hop class when one of my girls gets sick. The class stops, and I rush over to where she's bent over throwing up. When the vomiting finally ends, the poor girl starts crying.
"It's alright, Hon; it's alright," I stroke her back. "Let's go clean you up and get you some fresh air. Jake, please take the rest of the class to Studio Three. It's empty right now. I'll clean this up after I get Lexie settled."
"Miss Bella, is there anything I can do to help?" Mel asks.
"Yes, please go ask Miss Angie to give Lexie Ryan's parents a call and tell them she's sick and needs to be picked up. Thanks, Mel."
"No prob; and then I'll start cleaning up in here."
I smile over at her, then take Lexie to the bathroom and help her clean up. Afterwards, we step outside into the cool, crisp, fall air.
"Are you feeling better?" I ask, holding her carefully in case she feels faint.
"Yeah, actually, I am, but I do feel off."
"Alright," I stroke her arm soothingly.
Angie joins us. "Lexie's mom will be here in about ten minutes."
"Thanks, Angie," I murmur. "Do me a favor, can you ask Jess to go clean up the room? Mel volunteered to do it, but she needs to get back to her class…"
I trail off because Angie isn't paying me any mind. Instead, her gaze seems to be somewhere just beyond me, grin full of mischief.
"Bellita, I'll take care of everything. You stay out here and get some fresh air, okay? Hey, Lex, how 'bout we wait inside so you can sit?"
"Thanks, but I'm going to help Jess clean up the-"
"I'll help Jess clean up. You stay here, coño! Quedate aqui!" she practically growls, wrapping an arm around Lexie's shoulder and guiding her quickly back inside.
So I stay outside, because I really do need some fresh air. I can't stand the stench of vomit, but poor Lexie needed help. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, breathing in the scents of Brooklyn: varied cuisines mixed with car exhausts and gasoline. There's the scent of cigarettes…cigarettes and hard work and sweat and something still clean despite it all…
When I open my eyes, Edward is standing a few feet away, having a smoke and just…staring at me.
"You alright?" he asks, taking a long drag before dropping the half-smoked stub to the ground and stomping it out with his heavy boot.
"Yeah. We just had a girl get sick during class. It happens sometimes."
He nods, his eyes moving away from me, gazing straight ahead at the passing traffic along Smith Street.
"You were very…tender with her."
"Was I? That's the way my stepmom treated me when I got sick as a kid, so…I guess that's how you're supposed to do it." I shrug and stare straight ahead too. If he won't look at me while he speaks to me, then I won't look at him.
Except my eyes must not get the memo on the "Edward" embargo because they move to the corners of their sockets against my wishes, attempting to at least side-glance.
"I guess," he agrees, as if he's not entirely sure. "Some moms are really great while there are others out there who couldn't care less. You got lucky with your stepmom."
"Yeah, I suppose I did." My brows furrow at his confusing speech, and through my indirect staring, I can just make out wild hair, worn jeans and a black t-shirt.
"You're early," I point out.
He snorts. "Yeah, I guess I am, huh?"
"How come your…friend isn't picking up Mel today?"
Fuck, I hope that didn't sound as catty as it did in my head. Please God, don't let it have sounded as catty.
"Mel's grandparents are coming to pick her up tonight. They live in the City. She spends a weekend a month with them, and I've got to get her ready to go."
"Oh, your parents?" I ask curiously, breaking my pact to myself and turning towards him.
He turns and meets my gaze, and those eyes…Jesus, those eyes. They take in my body from top to bottom, and there goes my skin tingling everywhere his eyes reach. I want him to see me, but I don't want him to see me. Why does he look at me that way if he doesn't want to look at me at all? Why is his gaze so heated, so dark? Why can't I ever be the first to look away?
He snorts again. "No, not my parents. My parents aren't around."
I wait for him to elaborate, but of course, I'm asking for too much. When the silence between us begins to stretch out into uncomfortable territory, I start turning around to walk back inside.
"So how long have you been dancing, Bella?"
If he was by chance listening carefully, there's no way he missed my miniscule gasp of surprise at the fact that he's actually starting a conversation with me.
"Uh…according to my Dad, I learned to dance before I learned to walk. I used to dance in my high chair, in my baby swing, in my sleep…" I chuckle.
He grins. Lord Almighty, he grins, and I feel like I've been given front seats to the most incredible show on earth.
"I can believe that. You do it so…naturally."
He must see the question in my expression because he jerks that angular jaw towards the large, store window.
"You were watching?" I murmur.
He nods and takes a step closer to me. "It's…hard not to watch you when you're so…obviously involved in what you're doing. When it's so clear how much you love it."
He swallows thickly, and I see his Adam's Apple bobbing. My breath catches in my throat.
"I do enjoy it."
"It's good to enjoy what you do."
"What about you, Edward? What do you enjoy?"
He smirks and rakes a hand through his hair, looking away from me. "What do I enjoy?" He snorts. "I'm not really sure what I enjoy anymore."
He meets my gaze again with piercing eyes, and it makes me dizzy, makes me feel like I'm spinning around and around, so I drop my eyes to his shoulders, past his strong chest, down to where his thumbs coil around the belt loops on his pants. His stained hands are splayed across his lean thighs. Without conscious thought, I reach out and wrap my hand around one, un-looping it from his belt loop. I think I hear an intake of breathe, but my blood is pounding too loudly between my ears to know for sure, and I can't get myself to look at him. Instead, I inspect his stretched out hand in mine. It's large, with long fingers and wide knuckles; rough and tender all at once. I trace the paint and spackle on his fingers, feel the calluses on his palm before flipping it over.
"Well, you work with your hands, but you do enjoy it, don't you?" I murmur shakily.
It takes him a few seconds to respond. "Yeah, I suppose I do. How did you know that?"
Now I do look up. He's watching me so carefully. "I'm a fortune-teller. I have gypsy blood in me."
He quirks a brow. "Do you?"
I chuckle softly at him. "No, I don't. I'm just kidding.
He smirks.
"It's just that..." - I continue - "your hands are the hands of someone who puts his all into what he does."
We hold each other's gazes silently; his green eyes are darker then they were just a short while ago, and I feel like if he'll just let me keep looking into them, I'll learn everything he won't say aloud.
"You know you can wait inside," I hedge. "You can't smoke in there, but you can wait, and..."
He hesitates for a split second before withdrawing his hand from mine and sticking it in his pocket. Then he takes a clearly tentative step towards the door…
…and turns around.
"Nah. I'll just stay out here. Let Mel know I'm out here when she's done, alright?"
You know what? Fuck you. I don't have time for this.
I don't say it, but I think it because when he looks at me it's like he wants to say so much, but he doesn't. And he barely looks at me. And I think I've got vomit on my hot shorts somewhere. And even if Jess is cleaning up the room, I've got to go make sure she gets it all out because I don't want a classroom full of sick kids.
And why does a guy who barely looks at or speaks to me get me all flustered this way?
"Yeah, sure. I'll let her know. Take care," I mutter and turn to walk back.
"So what are you doing this weekend?"
I'm positive that he's speaking to someone else. There must be a friend of his standing to the side that I didn't notice. Maybe someone he knows just passed by.
But when I turn around, that heated gaze is on me. Well, it's on my ass, but when I turn around, he quickly moves it up to my face.
"Me? What am I doing?" I swallow thickly. "Well, a couple of times a month, Angie and I hold weekend classes for the competition teams. It's just for a couple of hours on Saturdays, but this Saturday isn't one of those weekends. I mean, we did it a couple of weekends ago. Not the weekend that just passed because I had an audition-"
"You had an audition? How did it go?"
"I didn't get it, but that's alright." And it is; it's alright. Right now, everything is alright.
"That's a shame. I can't imagine you trying out for something and not getting it."
"It happens," I smile. "A lot. Anyway, like I was saying, last Saturday I had that, but this Saturday I have nothing. No classes or anything. Nor do we have any on Sunday."
And this is my long and babbling way of saying that I am completely free this weekend.
"So I have nothing to do this weekend," I finally manage to utter, heart in throat.
He holds my gaze and then opens his mouth-
And sticks a cigarette in it.
"Well, enjoy your weekend, either way."
If I could shoot daggers out of my eyes, Mel's uncle would be speared through with about fifty of them.
"You enjoy yours too." I smile and then turn around and shake my ass Angie-style as I calmly and smoothly walk back into my studio.
A/N: Thoughts?
Don't forget to check out The International House of Fanfic blog!
Translations:
Nenita – Girl
Que pasa – what's going on?
tetas - tits
nalga - ass
Coño, carajo, puñeta – fuck, or damn.
Puta plastica – plastic bitch.
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Have a great weekend, and see ya Monday!